


Body Swap

by Frozen_In_Time



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Body Swap, Cas struggles to work a human body, Chaos Ensues, Dean struggles with being an angel, Dean's past catches up with him, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-08 06:41:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1930557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frozen_In_Time/pseuds/Frozen_In_Time
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Sam is away on a solo hunt, Dean and Cas are left travelling together. When they wake up one morning they find that something has gone oh so slightly awry. When they decide to go out and try to find a cure, they get split up and a not-so-friendly face from Dean's past decides to pop up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morning Surprise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FlailingZombie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlailingZombie/gifts).



> Please note that this work isn't beta checked. I'm writing it as little fragments come to me so some chapters might be a bit longer than others. Constructive comments are always welcome.

The sound of the alarm clock radio woke Dean from his none-to-restful sleep. His arm shot out from under the covers to hit the snooze button. He missed. Frowning he tried again, burying his face into the musty smelling pillow. Nothing; the bedside table was void of all objects.   
“Dammit Cas. Turn that damn thing off before I shoot it.” He was sure that the clock had been next to his bed before they’d gone to sleep that night but he must have been mistaken. And was it him or did his voice sound a little different?  
“I am sorry Dean but the music is not the most important problem we are facing at this point in time.” Cas’ voice sounded different as well. Maybe they had both come down with some sort of demonic flu. Given the places they had been staying recently, it wouldn’t come as a surprise.   
“What do you mean ‘not the most important problem’? I hate this pop crap and you know it.” Dean raised his head to glower at… himself? Stood before him as though carved of wood was an unblinking version of Dean Winchester. The other Dean’s mouth opened to speak.  
“Dean I appear to be stuck inside of your body and you are currently located within my vessel.” Was that Cas? It didn’t sound like Cas. Did he really look and sound like that? It was a miracle he ever got laid if that was the case.   
“Who the hell are you and what have you done to Cas?” His hand reached under the pillow to grab his trusty knife but he found nothing. He patted around in the hope that it had slipped during the night but still there was nothing. “And what have you done with my knife?”   
“Dean it is imperative that you see your reflection. There is a mirror in the bathroom. I can assure you that I have not touched your knife and that I am Castiel, Angel of the Lord.”  
Dean knew that this imposter wouldn’t stop talking until he did as he was asked. Groaning he pulled himself out of bed, wobbling a little on his feet. Strange, he couldn’t remember ever being this low down. It was a struggle to walk- he was off balance and kept stumbling- but when he got to the bathroom to look in the mirror all of those problems faded away. The face looking back at him through the glass was not his but that of Castiel’s. It had to be some sort of trick. There was no way he could be in Cas’ vessel. It was impossible. He frowned and reached out to touch the mirror, scowling as the apparent reflection paralleled his actions perfectly. The touch of the finger on the mirror caused the glass to crack, leaving a spider’s web of black lines across the horrified face looking out at Dean.   
“Dean, you cannot play about with my powers like that while you are in my vessel. You will hurt yourself or someone else and I will not be responsible for it when it happens.” The image of Dean joined that of Castiel in the mirror.  
“Alright, let’s say for a minute that I believe all of this is happening: that you and I have what? Swapped bodies? How would we undo this? ‘Cause as much as I don’t mind having all of these extra powers and add-ons, I don’t think we could go out the rest of our lives like this. I mean for one I ain’t even craving pie. I always want pie.”  
Castiel frowned at his vessel, head tilting to one side. “Dean, I am experiencing a large desire for pie. And also some smooth jazz. I did not think you enjoyed smooth jazz.”  
“Alright, alright, I believe you. Let’s get dressed, go out and grab some pie, and try to sort out this mess.” Dean scowled and pushed past his body. “And don’t mention smooth jazz ever again. Hunters don’t listen to smooth jazz.”


	2. Pie and Powers

Cas was on his third piece of pie and still didn’t seem to be satisfied. Dean could only watch as the angel placed another forkful of the apple-filled pastry into his mouth. He’d ordered coffee for himself but the taste was suddenly too bitter for him, even with sugar and milk, and he’d had to let Cas drink it for him. It was strange, watching Cas eat so much while he felt no pang of hunger despite having gone without food for over twelve hours now. Damn, being an angel really sucked.   
“Dean?” Castiel’s voice rose the new angel from his musings.  
“Yes, what is it Cas?”  
“I would like more pie. Please.”   
Dean couldn’t help but smile at the angel who had made a home in his old body. Little specks of blueberry filling decorated the corners of his mouth and pastry crumbs fell like little snowflakes onto his shirt every time he moved to take another piece.   
“No, Cas, I think you’ve had enough. Come on, we gotta go work out what the hell happened to us and see if we can get it changed back. I can’t spend eternity without pie. I love me some pie!” Dean couldn’t help but smile as Cas turned his head toward him, tilting it to one side in a feeble attempt to mimic his signature actions from his old body. While it might work in Dean’s new home, on Dean Winchester’s body, it just looked plain wrong.   
“But Dean, pie!” Cas pouted in protest when Dean stood and grabbed his arm, tossing a few notes onto the table.   
“Yeah well I let you put that stupid coat on yourself. It ruins my style man. It ruins my style.” 

Castiel grinned at the memory of their argument earlier that morning. Dean had insisted on them wearing the clothes that matched their bodies, not their personalities but Cas had been adamant about wearing his coat. It was his coat and not even Dean was allowed to wear it, even if his new body was too broad for it to fit properly. Dean had said that if Cas loved it so much maybe he should go naked for all but the coat. Castiel had agreed to this but Dean promptly changed his mind when Castiel had suggested that they went out for pie. What followed had been a string of very colourful words that Cas had never thought would leave his vessel’s lips and several recitals of ‘dammit Cas’ whenever Dean tripped over his new legs or couldn’t find the right clothes. 

Walking down the street, Dean handed a napkin to Cas.   
“Wipe your face. People are starin’; and I don’t want them thinkin’ my body is some sort of freak.” He hissed when his companion had stared blankly at him with his own jade eyes. It was bad enough walking around in this disorientated body without having to familiarise Cas with his as well.   
“Dean?” Castiel asked as he wiped around his mouth and brushed crumbs from his shirt. “What is smooth jazz?”  
“Cas I told you not to ask about that. Hunters don’t listen to smooth jazz.”  
“Dean, I am not a hunter. I am an angel of the Lord. I would like to listen to some smooth jazz.”  
“Cas, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you aren’t an angel any more. I’m stuck in your body with your frickin angel crap and you’ve got my boring old human body which, by the way, if you don’t keep clean, will be the least of your worries.”   
The two men jumped as the lights that lined the streets all sparked in unison, sending a flurry of flashes into the air. Cas frowned, turning to Dean.   
“Dean. You did not need to do that. I understood you perfectly well before you broke the lights”  
Dean stared blankly at his friend for a moment before switching his attention back to the sizzling electricals.  
“I did that? Awesome!”  
“Dean, it is not amusing. You should not be- stop that!” Castiel placed a stern hand on Dean’s arm in an attempt to halt the angel from blowing up the fire hydrant across the street.   
“Damn Cas! You never told me being an angel was this fun.”   
“Dean it is not fun. You are an angel of the Lord now. You need to act responsibly like one until we can change back into your own bodies.”  
“Hey Cas, how do you do your disappearing trick? Do you just think of a spot you want to go to an-” Dean vanished from his spot with the sound of flurrying feathers. 

Cas blinked and looked around, frowning at the world around him. Dean could be anywhere, anywhen and there was no telling when he would be back. Well, given that Dean was now an angel, Castiel had to be a hunter, and what do hunters do? They investigate. Yes. Castiel would investigate what had happened and would try and have it all reversed. Now if only these legs would start to cooperate with him. 

The stranger with an ill-fitting trench coat stumbled down the street while the townsfolk watched on, some shaking their heads and tutting at the drunkenness of the man while others backed away from him as though he were some sort of madman. He was muttering to himself about finding someone named Sam, or calling a Bobby- no one in these parts by that name, people whispered to each other. The stranger didn’t notice. Still he stumbled on.


	3. Popup From the Past

Castiel had been on his feet all day and for some reason his legs were beginning to tingle. This was a new experience for him. Never before had he been mortal in a mortal body and its requirements were highly frustrating. The flesh suit required constant feeding, emptying, watering, resting, it was as though he were taking care of a child that would cause him to suffer if he did not tend to it. Soon it would demand another rest and more sustenance; yet again causing another inconvenience in his search for whatever abomination had caused this body swap. 

Almost the entire town had been covered in his search so far, he had promised his new body that it would give it all it required as soon as he was sure that the cause of the trouble was not in the area. That was what Dean would do. Dean was now the angel and Castiel was the hunter so he had to do whatever it was Dean did and if that included more sinful activities then he would, regretfully, agree to it. He would make Dean proud of how well he looked after his body, even if he had been unable to discover any smooth jazz to feed its auditory system. What was smooth jazz anyway?

He froze. The hairs on the back of his neck were beginning to rise and send an unpleasant feeling through his human body. This was a new experience for him and his mind automatically filed it under “unpleasant” and “possible danger”. Some primal human instinct within him told him that something wasn’t right- that there was an impending danger that would soon be upon him. 

Behind him. There was someone behind him. He whirled around, ill-fitting coat making a soft whoosh sound as it followed his form. Castiel squinted into the darkness, searching for whatever, or whoever, it was that was sneaking up on him. The darkness was deeper than he remembered it ever being- the human body was much less powerful in every sense when compared to the angelic form, even when in a vessel. There was movement out there; he could just make out the darker figures moving amongst the gloom. There were one, two, three, maybe more of them. Male by the shape and size of the lurking silhouettes, but they appeared human. Demons perhaps? That wouldn’t be so much of a problem; all he had to do was smi- ah. He was human. What would Dean do?  
“Dean Winchester.” Why was he being addressed as Dean? Did the leader of the pack somehow know Dean? If so then why was he following Cas? They couldn’t possibly have been seen together- it had been dark when they arrived and they had only been in each other’s company after they had swapped bodies. Oh. He was physically Dean. This would be problematic; especially given that these people seemed none-too-friendly. 

Behind him now; another two had moved behind him and the tingling sensation was back, stronger this time. Castiel was surrounded. No matter which way he turned there was always at least one man stood behind him. If he was in his vessel he would have been safe in this situation. He could have merely disappeared from the spot or fought and smote them on the spot. Tonight of all nights he had nothing, no angelic weapons, no grace, no help from anyone. He could try to summon Dean but he doubted that he would be of any use given that he was unable to control even the smallest aspect of his newfound powers. He was alone. Perhaps his only hope was that this body would remember what to do in a fight. 

“Do you know what smooth jazz is? I have wanted to listen to some all day and I cannot find anyone who will explain it to me?” Castiel kept his eyes fixed on the man who he assumed to be the leader. He had been the one to speak and he appeared to be the most dominant member of the group. 

“Enough, Winchester. I thought I had told you that you weren’t welcome here anymore.” The ringleader spoke again. He sounded angry. What had Dean done to upset this man?

There was no time for Cas to ponder this further as the gleam of moonlight reflected on metal caught his eye. He took a deep breath. Then all hell broke loose.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken a while to get this next chapter up; it's been stupid hot here and productivity has been at an all time low. Hopefully I'll be able to add a chapter a week from now but no promises. Comments are, as ever, always welcome. Enjoy.

Exactly what happened, Cas would never be sure of. On reflex he’d pressed his palm to the forehead of his first attacker, concentrating on smiting the man who approached him. Nothing happened. He went to try again until he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. Castiel, Angel of the Lord, staggered backwards as his hand rose from his abdomen to just before his face. A red, sleek substance covered his fingers. Blood. His gaze flicked from between his attackers, to his blood covered hand; Dean’s blood covered hand, and back to his attackers again. Dean’s body was damaged and that hurt more than the physical pain. Cas had seen his friend broken, bloodied, bruised, beaten, and dragged through hell both physically and metaphorically but never had he thought that it would be his actions which brought this upon him. 

Another blow brought a cry from the terrified angel-turned-human as he staggered away from his assailants. What had Dean done to offend these men in such a way that they saw reason to attack his body now? He obviously didn’t remember or he wouldn’t have taken them to this place; though Dean’s history was filled with so many little incidents that he wouldn’t be able to remember them all: it would be humanly impossible. A flash of pain in his leg brought Castiel from his thoughts and felled him. There were too many for him to fight off alone. Sam was out of the question and Dean was god only knows where. Dean!

“DEAN!” Cas called out, shielding his face with his hands. It was a long shot but he had to take it. 

The swish of wings ignited a small flame of hope in Castiel’s chest. He risked a glance upwards; face lighting up at the sight of the familiar silhouette of his own body. Dean must have heard him and come to help. Cas blinked and raised his hands to his eyes, rubbing them with his blood smeared fists. Was it getting darker or was his vision failing? A fog-like tunnel had descended over his eyesight and nothing he could do seemed to make it stop. Dean continued to be the focus of his gaze though as he worked through the crowd of men, placing his hands on their foreheads. He didn’t seem to need instruction on how to use that particular angelic skill. If they had been in any other situation then Cas would have felt a swell of pride but here all he could focus on was the pain that radiated from the entirety of his battered new body. Dean was a skilled hunter and an intelligent man, even if he didn’t always want to admit to the later, and Cas trusted him enough to know what to do. 

“Cas.” Dean approached his friend as the last man fell to the floor. He was covered in blood and badly beaten but it was almost impossible to tell who it belonged to. “Cas look at me. You’re going to be okay, okay? Just tell me what to do.”

Castiel looked up at the figure that was now no more than a black shape in his vision and blinked a few times, trying to understand the noises that were coming from it. He let out a yowl of pain as the man shaped form wrapped its arms around him and pulled him up to stand, taking all of his weight. 

“Cas? Can you hear me?” There was concern in the disconnected voice now; he was taking all of the weight of the injured body and now it wasn’t responding to anything he said or did. “Cas you gotta help me here man. I don’t know what I gotta do.” 

Castiel let out a groan and slumped into the arms of the human-turned-angel. “De… Can’t.”

Dean frowned, taking a tight hold of his friend. “It’s alright Cas. We’re gonna get us switched back and sorted. Just hold on. Think about smooth jazz.”

It wasn’t as though he had much choice but he didn’t know what else to say. He wasn’t going to lose Cas, not like this. Dean closed his eyes, gripping onto the wounded form of his own body and concentrated. With a soft flutter, the two figures disappeared from the street, leaving a group of fallen bodies behind. A cat stared at the spot where two men had been moments before, blinked once, then slinked off to investigate the contents of a nearby bin.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean checked over the items in the box one more time. A picture of both he and Cas (it had to be the image of a mortal but he couldn’t exactly work out which of the two of them that would be); a handful of graveyard dirt; a bone from a black cat (he hadn’t had one handy so the cat from the alley earlier had to have an ‘accident’). Everything was there. He had no yarrow flower and he didn’t have time to find one after the incident with the cat so he’d have to hope for the best. The box was closed and lowered into the hole he’d dug. He replaced the soil and stepped backwards, kneeling next to Castiel and drawing him into his arms. For a terrifying moment he thought that he’d stopped breathing and he almost collapsed over what had once been his body but the chest rose ever so slightly and fell again, bringing a weak smile to Dean’s lips. Say what anyone will about Cas, but he certainly had the fighting spirit of a hunter. 

“Dean Winchester and Castiel? In each other’s bodies? Dear me what on Earth could have happened to cause that?” The demon folded her arms as she looked down at the pair on the ground. “And ever so slightly in trouble by the looks of it. I’m guessing you’re not here to ask for love or money.”

Dean set Castiel down and drew himself to his full height, stepping between the demon and his friend. “Look you bitch, I don’t know what the hell happened to make us like this. And quite frankly I don’t give a damn if it was demons or angels or some other hoodoo that did it but what I do give a damn about is you putting things right. I don’t care about my ten years as long as you put us back in our places.” 

The demon raised an eyebrow and shrugged a shoulder. “Your deal, I just hope you know you get exactly what you ask for.” 

“Done.” Dean nodded once and knelt back down to hold Cas in his arms.

“Ten years, Dean Winchester. I hope you get to live that long.” The demon’s lips fell into a lopsided grin as she waved a hand at the two men on the floor. The next second she had vanished.


End file.
